In the course of deep contemplation, I have come to realize that experiences such as being born after death, growing young, remaining in a fixed state, and even traversing vast distances—like a hundred yojanas—can all unfold within the confines of a dream. This is not unique to me; Harishchandra lived twelve years in a single night, and Lavana enjoyed a full hundred-year lifespan within a single night’s span. Time itself is relative: a moment for the lord of creatures is the lifetime of Manu, Manu’s lifetime is but a day for Brahma, and Brahma’s entire existence is considered a single day for Vishnu. For one whose mind has dissolved in meditation, all distinctions vanish—there are no days or nights, no objects, no world, and truly, not even a self remains for the yogi. The world itself is shaped by perception: what is sweet may become bitter if thought of with bitterness, and what is bitter may turn sweet when regarded with sweetness. An enemy becomes a friend when approached with friendship, and a friend can become an enemy when met with hostility. O mighty-armed one, the world is exactly as it is perceived. Objects and practices—such as recitation and study—become assimilated through repeated awareness. For travelers troubled by confusion, the boat moves only by awareness; without awareness, confusion leaves the boat unmoving. Emptiness is filled through awareness, as with those who see dreams; by awareness, even colors like yellow or white can be experienced as if tasted. A festival, like a calamity, brings distress to those deeply deluded; conduct is seen in the wall as in space, for one whose elements are disturbed. A false demon can steal even the life-breath of the bewildered; yet, by awareness, a dream-woman can give pleasure as if she were real. Whatever is attained through repeated practice gains stability in the same way; yet it is unreal, like the sky, existing only in the consciousness-sky. The movement of the world is like the shadow-play of a hundred-hooved horse spread out in the sky—merely a vibration of the mind, not a real thing. The vision brought by the demon of false knowledge is without form; it is only a bodily limitation, obstructive and full of cracks. This radiant appearance, seen in dreams by consciousness, is entirely new, arising for one who is asleep, just as it appears for a man. Just as a wooden pillar, uncarved, stands unmoving, so does the great pillar of ultimate reality—creation—stand unmoving. As a man surrounded by mighty warriors is disturbed in a dream, so too is the creation of Brahman for the awakened one, like deep sleep. Just as sap, present in grass, bushes, and creepers, remains on the earth at winter’s end and is established in spring, so too is creation established in the supreme state. Just as liquidity remains within gold, latent and not manifesting outwardly, so creation remains in the supreme, the space-like Self, shining forth in the subtlest of the subtle. Just as the arrangement of limbs is not different from the body itself, so too is the world not different from the formless, space-like Self, the space-like Brahman. As a single man in a dream fights with another, so too is this world, having the nature of existence and non-existence, belonging to the space-like Self, pervading space. At the beginning and end of great cycles, this form whose nature is consciousness arises; later, through mutual causation, it is known as unreal, not truly existent. If, in this liberated Brahman, another Brahman were to arise from memory, then that memory, being of the nature of cognition, would appear as creation, though it is only pure cognition. How did the lineage of Viduratha appear equally to all the chief ministers of ancient times? All the principal cognitions follow the chief mind, just as common gusts of wind follow a great storm. Through mutual experience, those cognitions take on a similar form among the rulers, subjects, and ministers of a kingdom. Thus, those who know the reality in Viduratha's city say, "This is our king, born from such a lineage," or something similar. In the nature of consciousness, there is no need to seek a cause, just as the radiance of a great jewel arises naturally from its own nature. Even the customs of the lineage and the kingship of this land are but the radiance of insight arising from the jewel of Viduratha’s knowledge. As many beings as there are, in whatever creation, at whatever time, all attain mutual recognition due to the all-pervading nature of consciousness. That awareness which is unconstructed and of intense, swift momentum—only that attains supreme steadiness, being of the single nature of liberation. Through the mutual succession of powerful displays, natures reflect one another, just as consciousness, by its own nature, is like a mirror. There, the one who prevails is that awareness which, by utmost effort, assimilates all others—just as a river draws other streams into itself on its way to the ocean. Here, as long as these aggregates strive by the nature of consciousness, one ultimately prevails, while the other is submerged. In the arising and perishing of countless worlds, at every instant, in every atom, this occurs repeatedly. Yet nothing is pervaded by anything, nor does anything abide anywhere; all this is consciousness-space, unborn, peaceful, and undivided. This dream appears without sleep and without a perceiver; its certainty of existence is known, yet though experienced, it is made of non-being. Just as a single tree, resting in itself, is the source of flowers, leaves, fruits, and branches, so too the infinite, all-powerful One alone exists. The unborn state, whose nature is composed of measure, knower, and known, never falls into forgetfulness of awakened awareness, at any time, for anyone. That one reality, pure from beginningless time, is devoid of rise and setting, darkness and light, direction and time; it remains clear, without beginning, middle, or end, like water—single, unmoving, and free from waves of softness or agitation.